


The Lost and the Found

by Levi_Winchester



Category: Charmed, Legacies (TV 2018), Teen Wolf (TV), The Originals (TV), The Vampire Diaries & Related Fandoms, The Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: Angst, BAMF Stiles, But it's still my own kind of lore, Charmed References, Darkness, Derek Hale Loves Stiles Stilinski, Derek is so stupid, F/F, F/M, Full Shift Werewolves, Good Peter Hale, Hurt Stiles, M/M, Magic Panic Attacks, Magic Sheriff Stilinksi, Magical Stiles Stilinski, Mates, Multi, Pack Dynamics, Rebuilt Hale House, Romance, Scott is a Bad Friend, Sheriff Stilinski Knows, Starts Post Kanima Battle, Stiles Leaves, Stiles Stilinski is Pushed Out of the Pack, Stiles-centric, The Twin’s last names are Vaughn, True Alpha Derek Hale, Warlock Stiles Stilinski, but comes back
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-19
Updated: 2019-04-11
Packaged: 2019-08-25 21:34:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16668712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Levi_Winchester/pseuds/Levi_Winchester
Summary: Stiles tried to turn their opinions of him around, but it didn't matter. It was time for him to embark on a journey on his own, a journey that could change the way everyone saw him for good. Could Stiles balance the Scales of Good and Evil? Or is he destined to fall into darkness?--or--Stiles gets hurt really bad and Derek decides to bench him until further notice, but Stiles leaves town after meeting some relatives who can teach him how to master his magic. Chaos ensues.





	1. Too Good to be True...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Giving it a go at a throwback fic, hence the Magic Stiles. I'm thinking of crossing this over with another series; if you're interested in seeing a few crossovers let me know. And tell me what you think of the story so far overall!

“You’re such a poor excuse for an Alpha, do you even know what it means to be a leader anymore Derek?” Peter whined ashamed of his nephew. 

 

 

“Peter this isn’t something I want to do,” Derek growled, “but it’s something I need to do. He’s not safe with us. Every moment he’s a part of this pack; it’s a moment that could be the end for him, which the end of all of us.” 

 

 

And that’s something I can’t afford, I love him too much to lose him so all I’ve got is to still let him go. Both thoughts pained Derek more than anything imaginable. 

 

“So, you kick him out? Where he’s isolated and vulnerable?” 

 

“It’s the only way Peter!” 

 

“The only way to keep Stiles safe is to make him an Omega?” Peter cried at the top of his lungs. “He’s not a Wolf he won’t be an Omega,” Derek retorted stubbornly. “You know what I mean,” Peter warned. 

 

 

“Then what should I do uncle? I can’t lose him,” Derek said hopeless. “You should be honest Derek. Stop pretending you don’t love him,” Peter said frustrated, like it was simplest answer in the world. 

 

 

“No! That’s not an option!” Derek said losing his temper. 

 

 

••• 

 

“Hey Derek? Come out and talk to me for a second?” Stiles voice echoed throughout the Burned Hale Manor. Although the place was a shell of its former self, hallowed and burnt, it was still huge and a bitch to walk through if you didn’t know how what it looked like before. 

 

 

“Hey, you okay?” Derek asked announcing his presence. Stiles spun around to face him, smiling brightly. “Me? I’m fine,” Stiles said. 

 

 

“So what’s up?” Derek replied confused. “Oh right! I have some ideas for Allison’s arrows, shes been telling me how she wants a redesign. And I need your help because you’re the smartest at anatomy for most supernatural creatures.” 

 

 

Stiles sat on the sofa against the wall, something he had suggested himself to brighten up Derek’s home. The Alpha seemed to be reluctantly but eventually took place on the couch next to his human pack mate. 

 

 

“So the design I have for Alli’s arrows is here,” Stiles said passing Derek a piece of paper, “a sort of Mountain ash tip.” 

 

 

The two of them spent hours working on perfecting the design and many others. Derek always underestimated how intelligent Stiles, the work he put in for the pack was unmatched by any other. 

 

 

“Good work,” Derek complimented simply, hesitating to let his guard drop kore than it has in the last couple hours. 

 

“Thanks… I know things have been weird with me and pack lately. The Siren thing was kinda too much to handle almost. But I wanna make sure I pull my weight,” Stiles admitted bashfully. 

 

 

Derek frowned at the confession, gripping Stiles’ wrist. “You don’t need to think of it as pulling your weight. If anything being apart of the pack could be dragging you down. You’re destined for more greatness than any of us, including Lydia.” 

 

 

“You don’t need to flatter me Derek, and c’mon I’m nothing compared to Lydia,” Stiles deflected feeling insecure. 

 

 

Derek took Stiles’ chin, guiding his eyes to his. “No one is anything compared to you Stiles. Don’t believe for a second you aren’t the most beautiful person when you walk into a room. You outshine everyone. 

 

 

Stiles couldn’t muster a reply, only a small gasp and a smile. But Derek felt deliberated, he was so relieved he was actually able to tell Stiles what he meant to him. 

 

 

“Derek.” 

 

“Yes?” 

 

“Kiss me.” 

 

“Okay.” 

 

The kisses turned into to making out, into clothes being taken off, into something so intense and meaningful. 

 

The love they shared was passionate and burning, so powerful it was frightening. It scared them because after all they’ve been through in their lives, and with each other, they didn’t think giving themselves to each other was possible. 

 

 

And when Derek came to, understanding now that he was in love with the teenage boy. He knew what he had to do. 

 

 

For loving Derek always came with a price. 

••• 

 

Peter’s stoic expression didn’t waver, but his lips did sneer into a snarl. “You are really pushing your position as Alpha right now. Do you really think the pack will be okay with this?” 

 

Before Derek could answer the pack came strolling in. Allison and Lydia took the love seat with Scott and Jackson sitting on the arms of the seat next to their respective girlfriends. Boyd, Erica, and Isaac sitting on the large sofa together. “What’s wrong with you two?” Erica asked making light of the situation 

 

 

“You two having another marital fight again? Why don’t you just kiss and makeup. We have a pack meeting to get through girls.” Jackson’s snarky comments earned him a few chuckles but they went silent when their Alpha flashed his eyes red. The pack went into a unified silence, intimidated and confused why Derek had been so much more tense than usual. 

 

 

“Not today guys, if you know what’s good for you,” Peter said bluntly. The aura had gone from lighthearted to dark and inauspicious, The Hale Manor and its pack was taking and turn for the worst. 

 

 

Scott stood up from his seat, knowing that as Head Beta he was in the right to ask certain questions. “what’s the deal guys? We can smell the tension between you two.” “There’s going to be a few changes in the pack,” Derek announcing tentatively. 

 

 

“Like?” Lydia asked nervously. The redhead made eye-contact with Peter, reading his emotions. They had been empathically connected ever since she caused his resurrection, and she could feel peter was beyond heartbroken. 

 

 

“He’s kicking Stiles out,” Peter shouted heatedly. “Peter…” Derek warned. 

 

 

“Kicking Stiles out of the pack? No, you’re not, you can’t,” Scott growled. “I can and I will, I’m Alpha my word is law,” Derek said trying to shut down the protest. 

 

 

“Derek do you know what this will look like to him?” To everyone’s shock it was Boyd who spoke up, leaning off the edge of his seat. “He’s right Derek. We already ignored him for the past two weeks like you told us to, because you thought it would help him heal,” Scott said. 

 

 

“And things have hardly gone back to normal,” Allison spoke up, “Stiles is still angry with us.” 

 

 

“He’s in danger every time we include him… that Siren almost ended it all for him. And what if we did lose Stiles. Everyone would realize after the fact that we shouldn’t made him take a step back, because he wasn’t ready,” Derek took a less defensive tone, trying to reason with his Beta’s. 

 

 

“This is all so fucked up,” Jackson groused, rubbing his hands over his face. “Even I know this is a bad idea, without Stilinski we won’t last a day,” Jackson said. 

 

 

“He’s going to hate us,” Erica whispered to herself. Erica’s features slowly melted from her impassive molding to pure melancholy. “He’s going to hate us just because Derek hates Stiles. If you ask me your jealous grudge against Stiles fucking has gone on long enough,” This time it was Isaac who blew up this time; the Beta then stormed out of the room ignoring his Alpha’s pleading calls. 

 

 

He’s wrong, I don’t hate Stiles… I couldn’t ever hate him. I loved that boy more than anything else in this world. But Stiles is so fragile and inexperienced, and fragile is something that has no place in my world. 

 

 

 

 

To say Stiles was surprised when Derek texted him saying there was a pack meeting, was an understatement. 

— 

From Sourwolf: Are you busy after school? 

 

To Sourwolf: Maybe, why? 

 

Stiles thought it was a good idea to play cool, Derek didn’t make it a point to talk about that night, so Stiles didn’t need to seem desperate. 

From Sourwolf: Try to make yourself un-busy please. Emergency pack meeting a 4:00. 

— 

 

Stiles didn’t respond, too shocked to even type. 

 

Stiles had noticed for a while that their dynamic had changed, not long ago it started feeling like The Hale Pack featuring Stiles. The teen boy felt adjacent to the scene regarding his friends. 

 

Stiles knew why though, he wasn’t stupid. After the Siren attack. Stiles being left with just about an inch of his life, the brown-haired teenager was on probation. An unspoken agreement from the pack that he be slightly excluded to teach him a lesson. 

 

But just because he knew why they were drifting apart, doesn’t mean he agreed or understood. 

 

It started to make him feel less than, Stiles started to feel lonely. Even when he was around them it didn’t feel right. Jackson with his endless comments and snarks, and no one stuck up for Stiles. Not even Scott. 

 

 

Stiles quickly went home, changed, and headed right over. On the drive in his blue Jeep he tapped his fingers along the steering with nervously. 

 

Stiles couldn’t shake the feeling something was wrong. 

 

He pulled up to the Hale Manor, and as Stiles got out my car he came to an abrupt stop. 

 

There was chilly, a cold wind blowing past him in the evening air. He looked to his left where the strong breeze had blown, heart suddenly feeling heavy. 

 

When the brunette glanced back at the burned down building in front of him, it looked darker now, Stiles saw a sinful haze looming around the building and emanating from the door. It shook Stiles to his core so much he took a step back towards his vehicle even. 

 

Before Stiles could do something someone might deem irrational, the chill had evaporated, the slightly warmer temperature returning. The manor hadn’t looked as baleful as it did a moment ago, and the sun shone through the forest trees, granting him the feeling of warmth again. 

 

He physically shook the dread off, I’m always scaring myself like that. I’ve been here a million times… 

 

 

Stiles started towards the door, unable to shake the feeling he’s had since he left school earlier that afternoon. Inside the room, everyone was tense. 

 

Derek and Peter were standing closest to the entrance, Scott standing off to the side to of them with a worrisome expression. Allison and Lydia had mirrored worried expressions, staring at their hands in their laps. And Jackson sat on the arm of the loveseat, arms crossed and looking in the opposite direction of me. 

 

Erica was sitting on the sofa beside Boyd, and their expressions were stoic by training. I could read past everyone’s shields and walls in this pack. 

 

 

Isaac was nowhere to be seen, and upon entering Peter immediately left my presence as well. 

 

 

Something was wrong with the pack and it had everything to do with me. 

 

 

Stiles coughed awkwardly, trying to make his presence known. “Hey guys,” He said nonchalantly. 

 

 

“Derek, you should tell him now. Don’t wait longer than you already have,” Jackson said disgusted, throwing Stiles a look of sympathy, which shocked everyone as well as the boy himself. 

 

 

“Let’s go into the other room,” Derek asked calmly, nodding in the direction which I came from. 

 

 

“Derek, tell me now. What’s going on?” Stiles was starting to get nervous, and the familiar feeling of panic that graced him only moments ago had been making a return trip to him. 

 

 

“Stiles, this is a sensitive matter, let’s just go into the next room,” Derek pressed harder but Stiles stepped away from him, shaking his head. 

 

 

“Anything you having to say to me you can say in front of the pack,” Stiles retorted. “Dammit Stiles, why don’t you ever listen?” Derek shouted. The younger boy was taken aback by his sudden aggression, however he went right into the routine. “Because if I always listened to you I’d be either dead or depressed!” 

 

 

“If you keep going the way you’re going Stiles, you’ll definitely end up that way,” Derek shouted at him. “What are you talking about?” Stiles voice cracked, scared and confused. 

 

 

“Stiles you keep putting yourself at risk when you have no business doing so. The Siren almost saw to the end with you. It wasn’t the first time its happened either; but it’s been the worst,” Derek ranted to me softer now. “People on the pack risk their lives all the time, why is it different with me?” 

 

He waited for the Alpha to answer him, to finally confess what he’s been wanting to hear for the better part of 6 months. Tell me you want me safe because you love me… say it Derek. 

 

“You need to take a step back,” Derek pushed bluntly. “Why? Tell me why Derek.” 

 

“You’re not a wolf, you don’t have years of combat and weapons training, and you can’t emit sonic screams and put people under your control. You’re smart but reckless, and you can’t be a part of something where you’re at risk nonstop. It’s a liability.” 

 

Stiles stepped back from the larger man again, as though he had physically struck him. “What are you saying?,” Stiles asked venomously through his teeth.. 

 

 

Stiles made eye-contact with the pack, these people had become his uprising and his downfall in the matter of just one semester. 

 

 

Stiles knows he scared them, that he probably messed up with the Siren’s and almost fucked over a lot of people if he would’ve died. But they were supposed to be a family, they couldn’t really be casting him out right? 

 

“Scott,” He spoke to his best friend gently but there was a sense of accusation to his tone, “Stiles I didn’t know." Scott pleaded. “I doubt that, Derek wouldn’t do something this big without consulting the head Beta,” Stiles sneered. 

 

 

“No!” was all Scott said. “Stop him,” I challenged casting a quick look to Derek. His eyes had been trained to the ground, coward couldn’t even look me in the eyes. 

 

“I- Stiles....” Scott stammered. “Scott tell him I’m more valuable, that he can’t cast me out like this. Tell him I deserve to stay here,” I was closer to he was walking closer to his best friend now, placing his hand on the Beta’s chest. 

 

“He’s my Alpha Stiles. It’s not my place,” Scott said with finality. “You should leave,” Derek spoke again, slowly strutting out of the room. 

 

Stiles bit back the tears and flipped his switch, it almost became routine for him. Stiles was a master at turning off his emotions. 

 

 

“Okay,” he said finally. His excepting tone scared the rest of the Betas, all their heads snapped up in shock. “My pack research will be on my back porch tomorrow morning. Don’t let me or my dad run into you.” 

 

Before Stiles walked away for good, he slowly approached his now ex-Alpha. Stiles gave him the most disgusted, ashamed look he could muster up. 

 

 

“I knew you thought it was a mistake, I should’ve never trusted you,” Stiles said cynically. And what made him even angrier was Derek’s wounded expression. 

 

Stiles walked away briskly, he just couldn’t stand being there anymore. 

 

 

Stiles knew he shouldn’t have gotten his hopes up, he knew he should’ve never fallen in love with his pack that way, excepted them like family. Because he always ends up broken in the end. 

 

 

I knew it was too good to be true…


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys enjoyed, let me know what you guys think! Or any questions...

“You need to take a step back…”

It had been 24 hours since then, since Stiles had his heart all but physically ripped out by his pack. 

And the boy just couldn’t let go.

Stiles knew that a day wasn’t a enough time to numb himself to the loss, but he also thought he would’ve been used to the pain. Every second he lied in bed, the pain and sorrow only worsened.

What did I do to deserve this?

Stiles threw his life away for Scott and the pack. Stiles put his health and education on the line; he even damn near destroyed his relationship with his Father just because he wanted to protect the Werewolves. A pack of Werewolves who deemed his protection unnecessary.

“Stiles,” Noah called to his son from outside his bedroom. “Hey, yeah Dad come in,” Stiles called back. Sheriff Stilinski entered the room accordingly, granting his son with a sweet and sympathetic smile.

“I need to talk to you about something, and I want you to listen to me. Try to shelve the comments and concerns until after,” Noah requested cautiously. Stiles nodded quietly, making space on his bed for Noah to sit.

“I’m not exactly sure what happened or how it did. But I know it’s because of Scott and Derek Hale. You’ve been hanging out with them nonstop the past few months and then for the last two weeks, I’ve barely heard from Scott,” Noah started, taking a stern tone with his son. He didn’t miss how Stiles tensed up at the mention of his best friend. Or how he turned away to look through the window, wiping his tears.

“And I want you to know, that I know. I know what you’ve been hiding since the summer and I want you to know I’m not angry with you. I’m proud you sought out to protect the people you love; even if you have been keeping things from me. But you’re my son and I need to start protecting you,” Noah finished and his words shook Stiles to his very core. His head snapped and he gazed into his father’s eyes in shock.

“I’m sorry Dad, I never wanted to disappoint you,” Stiles managed to cut through the sob that was threatening to escape his lips. “Disappoint me?” Noah asked astonished. “Stiles I have been angry with you, scared for your future and safety; but I have never been disappointed in you or ashamed to call you my son.”

“Good, cause for a while I thought you’d hate me,” Stiles joked. He took a deep breath, feeling better than he had all day. “I could never. But I do need to leave for an hour or two,” Noah divulged guiltily. “How come? Are you going into work?” Stiles question was answered before his father spoke: Noah had been dressed in casual wear. Jeans, blue tee shirt, beige jacket and boots.

“No, I have something more important to take care of. Don’t worry though, it’ll benefit the both of us,” Noah had a light and reassuring tone. A tone that confused Stiles more than he’d care to admit. “Is everything okay?” Stiles asked, “I mean you’re pretty chipper for a guy who just told his son he knows about the supernatural.

“Son, I’m the sheriff of this town. Don’t call me “chipper”,” Noah joked before leaving Stiles’ bedroom. “I’m the sheriff, don’t call me chipper” Stiles mimicked his father endearingly.

The conversation Stiles had with Noah was more cathartic than he had thought it was. Stiles didn’t realize how much his fallout with his father had affected him. And stiles realized that he used the pack to substitute for that relationship, so the loss of both sent him over the edge.

He gained the will and energy to drag himself out of bed. “Enough being a sorry bitch.” Is what Stiles told himself. Stiles got up, took a shower, and put on workout clothes and combat boots. Stiles was hoping to head out to the Hale Manor, the boy regret letting the pack take his research. 

As he exited his room, the cold chill that haunted him yesterday graced him once again. This time the chill had been blowing in the direction of the attic, and the attic door had been shut but pulsing as though it had a heartbeat.

“Okay, the last time I got this feeling my heart was shattered by everyone I love,” Stiles said aloud, telling himself that he shouldn’t investigate the phenomena. “Although, a heart shattered is a heart exempt from pain.” Stiles was proud of his of his reasoning, “and people tell me my logic is flawed.”

 

With that final conclusion, Stiles quickly strutted into the door, and the chill had been getting colder and colder. The boy suddenly wished he was wearing more than basketball shorts and a tank top. Stiles fingers graced the door knob and the pulsing intensified, almost deafeningly.

 

It took all his nerve and courage, but Stiles yanked the attic door open. The phenomena ceased right away, something Stiles took comfort in wildly. “Why does that keep happening?” Stiles wondered. It was starting to happen too frequently and too strongly to ignore or brush off. 

Wasting no time, Stiles ascended the stairs quickly. “It’s only an attic, it’s only an attic,” Stiles chanted in the dark narrow stairwell. Once inside he ran to where he remembered the light switch was, flicking it with ease. Stiles scanned the room, smiling fondly at his mother’s things scattered around the room.

“Forgot how big this place is,” Stiles whispered to himself. Stiles had spent about an hour in the attic rummaging through the boxes filled with his mother’s old scrap book and painting she completed during college.

His mother’s artistic passion had passed down to Stiles. However, Claudia only drew and painted. Stiles was an artist, musician, singer, and before Scott convinced him to join lacrosse; Stiles was a dancer. Claudia had told Stiles time and time again that his talents made him so special, like a magical spark.

“I wish I was magical Mama,” Stiles said to a picture frame of her, “but if I was special, they wouldn’t have left.” Stiles laid back against the wall, tracing her features in the picture. “I miss you and I’m confused. Please tell me what I should do.” Stiles set the picture down and noticed something in the far side of the room covered in a sheet.

He sauntered over the attic floor, careful not to trip over any boxes or loose objects. Stiles grabbed the sheet and rapidly snatched it from the large object, gasping in shock. Under was his mom’s old piano, something she’d play in the foyer every evening before dinner. Stiles open the fall-board, which was intricate carvings, and ran his fingers over the pristine white keys. Not a single spec of dust over the instrument. 

Stiles squinted at the piano, he felt as though it was calling to him, and a distant tune is mother used to play on the piano echoed in his psyche. He pressed a single key and the sound shook the boy to his core. “Of course, how is this thing in tune?” Stiles exclaimed at the world. It seems the universe wouldn’t rest until he got the sign.

Stiles smiled fondly, sat at the dusty bench, and played a tune he didn’t know how he remembered.

It was eight eighth notes, a minor scale that alternated up and down up the staves. A simple tune his mother had played any time she started a song, sort of like tick she developed.

And as stiles finished the scale, going back down to the note of origin, the air around him started to chill and swirl. The piano repeated the tune on its own, the keys had been glowing a faint blue light. Stiles stepped away and the now animate object, contemplating feeling from the scene.

The piano seemed to read his thoughts because an incantation carved itself into the wood of the music rack with a searing blue light.

Stiles didn’t know how he knew it was an incantation, he didn’t know what it meant either. But ever since yesterday he learned to trust his instincts. “Scintillam quandam et ponam eum,” Stiles voiced the latin text confidently. Or so he thought. He could tell the text was similar but different. The only word he recognized was spark.

The piano reacted to the incantation, and stopped vibrating. The autonomous tune ended as well. The lid to the piano opened by itself, the least suprising thing to Stiles, and a leather bound book with metal casing levitated from inside the piano.

“What are you?” Stiles asked almost expecting a response, the boy isnt ruling anything out at this point. The book stayed floating in front of Stiles face, idle in movement. Stiles could feel the book was waiting for Stiles to him to response; it was almost like the book wanted (or needed) his permission.

Stiles reached for the book, fingers moving through the intangible blue field pulsing off the floating object. What’s the worst that can happen? Stiles thought. He was tired of being cautious. Stiles grabbed the book, and metal casing lit up. Grimoire, the book was called.

This feeling emanated from his hands and spread from his head to his toes, it was like every cell in Stiles was tingling and vibrating uncontrollably. 

 

“What the...” is what Stiles said in the Attic of the Stilinksi Household.

 

“Actual fuck,” he finished someplace else. Deep in the preserve. Stiles stumbled on the grass, struggling to maintain his footing. “I should’ve known touching you was a bad idea,” Stiles shouted at the book. “I mean you’ve got me yelling at an inanimate object for Christ's sake.”

 

The Grimoire pulsed in response, almost as if to say sorry.

 

A growl sounding from the trees made Stiles more alert of his surroundings. Into view came a menacing black wolf, eyes blood red. “Derek,” Stiles grunted agitated. “I’ve told you a long time ago you’re not to spy on me anymore.”

 

Derek’s wolf growled once more before sitting on its hind leg and shifting back into human form. “I wasn’t following you,” Derek said stubbornly. “Then what were you doing?” Stiles demanded. “Stiles I was running in the preserve like I’m allowed to when I heard you over this way,” Derek defended incredulously. 

 

“The real question is: what are you doing out here? How did you get out here?” Derek interrogated, arms crossed and stepping closer to the teenage boy. “How else would I have gotten here?” Stiles deflected back at the werewolf, stepping away from his advances. “I can’t smell or hear your car, you’re saying you walked this far out into the preserve?”

 

“I was going for a jog...” Stiles lied, before remembering that he could tell when he was lying. Come on Stiles, deflect when you’re dealing with Werewolves. “Stiles Stilinski jogging in sweats and combat boots…” Derek said unbelievingly.

 

“Look Stiles, just because what happened, happened, doesn’t me you need to go out and do dangerous things to try and get our attention,” Derek scolded. “Excuse me?” Stiles shouted. “I know how much you put into the pack, but you’re not strong enough to keep up and you’ll get yourself killed. You understand right?”

 

“No, I don’t understand,” Stiles said dryly. Derek pinched the bridge of his nose, not in frustration. More like exasperation; like he didn’t want to have another bad conversation with the boy. “Just don’t go places you aren’t supposed to. You can’t go places where danger could be,” Derek tried to take the most polite tone possible.

 

Stiles snorted sarcastically in return. “You want me to stay out of the preserve,” Stiles translated. He couldn’t bite back the hurt swelling in his chest, but he turned away from the Alpha nonetheless. “You get me, right?”

 

Stiles let out a fed up laughed, scoffing at how condescending the Alpha could be. “Derek, you’re a coward, a liar, and a shitty excuse for a person let alone an Alpha. I’m actually glad you kicked me out of the pack, because now I can take the time to really think about how toxic you are,” Stiles had lost control of his anger.

 

Three resounding *Pop*’s sounded around the duo from high above. And three large tree branches crashed to the ground in a thud.

 

Derek turned away from Stiles, to investigate the sounds, giving the boy a chance to disappear. He shut his eyes and prayed the book would get him out of there. Much to his luck; Stiles flashed away from the Alpha and back to his home.

 

Stiles was inside house’s entrance hall, facing the front door. Stiles got passed the amazement his teleportation quickly as the emotions of his meeting with Derek came flooding back. “UGH!” Stiles belted from the top of his lungs, then sighed, suddenly satisfied. Mostly because he blew the lights out of his entire house.

 

“Feel better son?” Noah called behind him. Stiles froze, scared to face his father. “Just because you aren’t moving doesn’t mean we can’t see you dear,” A sweet woman’s voice called endearingly. That encouraged Stiles to turn around. 

 

“Hey, I can explain,” Stiles pressed nervously. How was he going to explain to his father and two strange women how he appeared out of thin air then proceeded to blow the light bulbs in his house out? “No need to explain, we already know who and what you are,” The second woman said nonchalantly.

 

“Who are you two?” Stiles asked concerned. “I’m Helena,” the sweet blond woman answered, “and this is my sister Serena.”

 

"Nice to meet you,” Stiles said. He placed his Grimoire behind his back. “Don’t try and hide it, I’m not surprised you’ve found your mother’s Book of Shadows. You always were too clever for your own good,” Serena said with an impressed and prideful smile. “It was also clever of our sister to hide it in the piano,” Helena chimed in.

 

“Your sister?” Stiles asked suddenly breathless. “Yeah, their sister is your mother,” Noah conveyed to his son. “So that makes me...” Stiles trailed off. “We have lots to discuss nephew,” Serena said. She took his hand and guided him into the living room. “So much magical heritage to sift through, how exciting!” Helena said jubilantly following behind them. 

 

“It was a demon?” Stiles asks pacing back and forth in his living room. The conversation he had for the past hour first started off as something hesitant. But Stiles encouraged his aunts and father to his rip the band-aid off. “Yes, and the Elder Council for the coven had decided it was best cover it up....” Noah trailed off. “Into dementia,” Stiles finished.

 

“Claudia was the most amazing Witch you’d ever come across, and one of the few Witches with the power of prophecy. But one thing she was confident in was that you’d surpass her.”

 

“Why didn’t I know about any of this sooner?” Stiles questioned. He had been lied to his entire life about his entire life and he couldn’t help but feel betrayed. “I was your mother’s Whitelighter, and it’s forbidden for Whitelighters to have relationships with Witches and Warlocks. They council couldn’t know we married let alone had a son. So, we went dark and left that life behind,” Noah explained and Stiles could hear the genuine sense of his apology.

 

Or maybe he was just someone who couldn’t hold a grudge.

 

“Your father called us here to give you a proposal, that you’d come with your Aunt Helena and I to New York for the summer,” Serena offered bluntly. Something told stiles Tact wasn’t in his aunt’s vocabulary.

 

“You did?” Stiles asked his father. “Yes. I think it could be a good idea, your powers have manifested and you need to be around Witches who can teach you magic properly,” Noah stood up and embraced his son lovingly. “And I’m pretty sure you could use a getaway Stiles. What the pack has done is taking a toll on you.”

 

“What about you?” Stiles asked his father. "Your magic has been ignited and unbounded, so my Whitelighter wings have been returned,” Noah had a grim expression grace his features and stood up slowly. 

 

To Stiles, Noah seemed taller, more formidable. Maybe because he knows how much his father has been through, or because he got his whitelighter abilities back. Noah held out his left palm upward and white and blue energy formed into a swirling sphere the size of a softball. Stiles was taken aback and let out a soft huff of air.

 

“That’s freaky,” Stiles admitted. Noah grinned and put his hand in his pocket, “You’re a Warlock Stiles. It’s in your nature. You should learn, study, control that magic of yours.”

 

Stiles scoffed at his father, “Control? I’m so under control.” “Tell that to the light bulbs,” Helena interjected jokingly. Stiles pursed his lips and turned away from his family.

 

He stared into the distance of the house, wondering if he needed time to think about their offer. But he knows he doesn’t, Stiles was done overthinking. 

 

Time to put my happiness first from now on.

 

“Okay. Where do we start?” Stiles asked.

 

 

A woman, pale skin, platinum blonde hair, gray eyes and red lips. In a stunning slim white dressed.

 

She sat on a throne of glass, at the center of a kingdom that would once be hers.

 

“Madame!” A man called to the woman. The silence in the great hall had been slashed through by the man. He ran panicked to his master.

 

“What is it?” She asked coldly. Her icy features moved to take in the man’s appearance. “I have news. The Chosen one is awoken,” The woman’s featured faltered ever so slightly. 

 

“How?” She asked. 

 

“The rose is set aflame. The hour of Angelic Reckoning is upon us, Milday.” 

 

The woman stood up, shifting her white dress to onyx black, same with her hair. The blonde color switched to raven. The Witch walked down the staircase from her throne and placed a condescending pat to his shoulder. 

 

“Thank you, let’s get prepared. We have a Wiccan to kill don’t we?”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, sorry it’s been so long. I’ve been avdoing writing the next chapter because I felt like the book was missing something.
> 
> So I played around a bit and added a new fandom. I hope this is something you guys will he into.
> 
>  
> 
> Enjoy!

“Stiles, I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to here.”

 

Stiles didn’t bother responding, only brushing past the Vet/Druid. “Deaton, this is actually very important,” Stiles said pleadingly. Deaton stopped in his tracks, staring into the teenager’s eyes and finally sighed in defeat.

 

“I thought you were done getting into trouble…” Deaton started. “Since my split from the pack?” Stiles interjected. 

 

Deaton swallowed embarrassed and nodded simply. “First of all, get that look off your face. I don’t care about that whole situation anymore. Second, don’t act like you didn’t know,” Stiles said stoically. “What makes you think I knew?” Deaton asked genuinely.

 

Stiles crossed his arms and smirked knowingly, as if to say “you know everything.”

 

“Did you know I was a Warlock?” Stiles asked finally. 

 

“I did.”

 

“How?” 

 

“I was the one who gave your parents the binding spell for your powers, and the unbinding spell should you needed it,” Deaton had a fond smile on his face. “I’ve been fighting the supernatural all this time, and you didn’t think it was time for me to get in touch with my magic?” Stiles asked on the verge of shouting. 

 

“Magic is sacred thing, it wasn’t my place to grant your powers to you nor tell you of your Supernatural Heritage,” Deaton answered semi-apologetic, “Your mother made it a point that she’d let you figure that part of yourself out when she wanted.”

 

Stiles crossed his arms, truly agitated now. “But she’s gone, I had to figure out all this for myself.”

 

“Witches and Warlocks never pass away truly, they ascend to Spirits. And these spirits can access last amounts of their Magic in certain places to do their bidding. Your mother and the Wicca in the afterlife always have been looking out for you,” Deaton had moved closer to Stiles, dropping his seamless façade to be more reassuring. 

 

Stiles took a moment to process, letting his anger fade. “Why you? What made my mother come to you for the spell?” He asked. 

 

“Druids are special Witches and Warlocks, kind of a last stitch effort to maintain the wall from humans the supernatural. So we get access to certain spells that are almost forbidden,” Deaton had sat down in the corner of the room, eying the herbs shelved on his wall. 

 

“The spell that bounded my powers is forbidden?” 

 

“Magic is seen as a form of life, and when you block the access of someone’s magic or take it away all together, it’s almost as though you’re interfering with nature. Spells as such can do good and bad equally so it’s on the border of Light and Chaos Magic,” Deaton explained carefully. He finished with a far off glance, like he was recalling an old memory.

 

“Something tells me you’re not so involved in Druid affairs anymore,” Stiles observed out loud. “I left the Order a long time ago, for personal reasons.”

 

Stiles nodded understanding, it wasn’t any of his business. But he got the feeling Deaton’s involvement with his parents departure from the Supernatural is the reason why he’s no longer apart of that world either.

 

“So, Stiles… what brings you here,” Deaton asked after a beat. “I met my Aunts today,” Stiles revealed.

 

“Serena and Helena?” 

 

“Yeah… I’m not even gonna question how you know them at this point. Anyways, they want me to move to New York with them.” 

 

“And you don’t know if you should,” Deaton finished. 

 

Stiles nodded, pursing his lips. 

 

“I say you have nothing to be afraid of. I think you’re really uninformed about the Wicca lineage you hail from,” The Druid sounded very astounded and impressed. His tone almost took Stiles off guard. 

 

“You come from a long line of powerful Witches and Warlocks. As for your father, he’s a very renowned Whitelighter. Regardless of your parentage though, you have amazing potential all on your own.”

 

Stiles tried to fight the smile that his lips formed into. It was weird to hear Deaton say such sweet things, knowing they hadn’t really gotten along in the past. 

 

“So I should do it?” Stiles asked again.

 

“As harsh as this may sound; the pack doesn’t care for you. When they realize that you’re the center of their world, you could have already bettered yourself. I don’t see the point in you hurting yourself while wait for a group of people to get their heads out of their asses. You deserve way more.”

 

Stiles understood what Deaton had said. Maybe it was harsh but it was nothing but the truth. It was time for Stiles to start respecting and stop second guessing himself. It wasn’t perfect; but his was his life now. 

 

“That’s all I needed to hear Deaton,” Stiles finished the conversation as fast as it had started. He strutted towards the door.

 

“The best, I wish you, Yoda.” Deaton laughed at Stiles’ poorly executed joked; settling for a nod. 

 

Stiles let him be, smiling fondly as he left the Vet’s office for what might be the last time. 

 

“What are you doing here?” Stiles heard the familiar voice interrogate him. 

 

Another thing Stiles was sure to put an end to. 

 

“Derek, I’m really sick of you asking me that question,” Stiles snapped, maneuvering around the Alpha. 

 

Scott and Lydia had been flanking Derek. Erica and Allison were in the back of Jackson’s truck with Jackson himself. Isaac, Boyd, and Peter were nowhere to be seen though. 

 

“I need you to tell me what happened in the woods today,” Derek demanded. 

 

“I don’t know what you mean,” Stiles denied the alpha stubbornly, biting his lip. It was in his nature to he truthful. Especially to the pack, he lied to his father for so long but they were the ones he was always honest with to keep people safe.

 

“You appeared, then disappeared in the woods,” Derek accused, stepping forward menacingly. Scott stood between his Alpha and former best friend, placing a hand on Derek’s chest. “There’s also three trees in that area that are torn apart,” Scott started perturbed, “we just want you to be safe. Regardless of you being in the pack or not.”

 

Stiles always let Scott’s words influence him, another thing the Warlock learned to fight today. “You guys want me to stay away. To mind my own business; it’s time the Hale Pack learned to do that themselves. Do not ask questions no one wants to answer,” Stiles seethed at all of them, making sure the warning was clear in his voice.

 

“Stiles! I need…” Derek boomed.

 

“I don’t care what you need from me anymore Derek. It’s time I start thinking for myself instead of thinking for you guys. I’m gone, and for the sake of the innocents in this town, learn how to survive and thrive on your own,” Derek rushes after Stiles once more.

 

“Where… where are you going?” Derek asks, barely able to contain himself. The pack can feel the worry and fear emit from their alpha, unsettling that their leader was at the control of stiles this way. “Goodbye,” Stiles said finally. 

 

“Wait!” Scott called sprinting after the Warlock.

 

“Producit umbrae vesperi.”

 

Scott heard Stiles shout the foreign language, then he disappeared. Scott froze in shock, and looked to the pack, but they were all concentrated on the sky above them

 

Everyone stayed in their same spots they were in a moment before. But the sky was now dark and the moon shone in the sky, surround by little flecks of stars.

 

But it can’t be, at least 8 hours have passed in the 15 seconds since Stiles was standing.

 

“What…” Scott was too overwhelmed to say anything. 

 

“What just happened? What time is it?” Lydia shouted in anger. “Get in your cars, find Stiles now,” Derek ordered and hopped in his Camaro.

 

The pack all huddle into any car they were closest to and sped all the way to the Stilinski Residence.

 

The ran to the door, Allison unlocked it with hair clip. Inside the house had been empty. Extremely empty. 

 

Any sign of Noah or Stiles had been erased form the house. Wherever Stiles went, he wanted to make sure the Hale Pack would never find him. 

 

•••  
Two Months Later  
Mystic Falls, Virginia

 

“Why did you bring me on this tour?” Stiles asked Serena and Helena. “For lots of reasons,” Serena replied airily. They ignored their nephew’s gaze as he trailed behind them, the Witches admiring the campus with fake interest. 

 

In the past couple of months, a lot has changed for the young Warlock. 

 

As soon as he agreed to abandoning Beacon Hills, Stiles moves to New York with his aunts Serena and Helena. The past two months were nothing but nonstop magic crash courses. 

 

Stiles learned that magic isn’t the only thing Witches and Warlocks are capable of, that there are multiple types of mystical arts. And magic is only one sect of the art. Helena and Serena taught him Wicca customs, laws, government, how Covens are bigger and more organized than one might think. 

 

Stiles soon realized that the Werewolves of Beacon Hills were so ignorant to a world outside of their own, and when they finally caught wind of what’s to come. It’ll shake them all.

 

It also made his anger for Derek grow immensely, the Supernatural world had secrets that weren’t meant to be secret. The Pack Beta’s are ignorant to their heritage and that irked Stiles truly.

 

Another thing stiles learned on his time away, etiquette and appearance. His aunt Helena gasped in disgust the night he started unpacking his boxes and suitcases. With a speedy hand motion and whisper of Latin words, 90% of his clothes had been incinerated instantly. 

 

Serena simply laughed the situation off, happy she got an excuse to shop for her nephew that day. Although Stiles will never admit it, he loved that day. Material items were never important to him, but he created his own style that allowed him to express himself. 

 

Confident, presentable, and always relevant and current.

 

“Oh! Look at that, a new extension to the Stefan Salvatore Memorial Library,” Helena said excited pointing to a protruding corner of a building. 

 

Salvatore Boarding School for the Young and Gifted. A school in Mystic Falls (a town which resembled Beacon Hills way too much) that specializes in housing Wicca, Vampires and Werewolves. Teaching them to control their powers and abilities. 

 

“Guys, the last thing I need is to deal with is other supernatural’s right now anyway,” Stiles pleaded to their silent encouragement. “That’s exactly what you need,” Serena said.

 

“I like learning from Witches, like you guys,” Stiles pleaded.

 

“We’re powerful, make no mistake about it. But you need to learn the tricks and things young Witches and Warlocks know. Enrolling you here will only make you stronger,” Helena smiles softly, semi guilty for making him attend a school against his wishes.

 

“Little one, why are you so against coming here?” Serena asked expectantly. 

 

Stiles sighed agitatedly. In the couple months he had spent with his aunts he learned their mannerisms within the first week. Serena was upset with his hesitation. “I’m not, this school seems amazing,” Stiles started truthfully, “but you always say how a Warlock’s life is one full of adventure. Who knows what the future will bring. I can’t find out stuck at boarding school.” 

 

Stiles reasoning was met with silence, which annoyed him further. “Why can’t we just stick to the regular program? You teaching me magic at home has been fine all on its own,” Stiles tried again, hoping this angle would change their minds

 

“Yeah it’s been going too well Stiles. Your magic studies are supposed to be at middle schooler’s level at the most, and you’ve gone way too far past that threshold. You’re really advancing in your studies and you deserve proper education,” Helena said.

 

“But you’re great Witches. The best of the best when it comes to Mystic Arts. Teaching me shouldn’t be that hard,” Stiles said, reaching to ass-kissing

 

“Those who can’t do teach…” Stiles Aunts started in unison. 

 

“And we’re great doers. It’s why we can’t teach,” Stiles finished. “If you know we were going to say that, then why ask why we’re seeking enrollment?” Serena snapped.

 

“I can’t start another school, I wanna graduate from the same place I started,” Stiles answered regretting the sentence immediately. 

 

Serena stopped, taking a moment to face Stiles, and offered a very condemnatory gopple. “You need to leave Beacon Hills behind,” she stated simply. 

 

“I want to graduate in the place I grew up! Why is that so bad?” Stiles replied heatedly. He strutted past his aunts and forward to their last destination on this tour. “You want to go back to see Derek,” Helena chimed in this time, “don’t say its anything other than, because we’re not the ones you can lie to.”

 

The Warlock paused at her words. Swallowing his guilt he turned to face Serena and Helena. “Okay, if you’re forcing my hand at honesty. Don’t pretend like you want me to stay in New York for my education. You just think our family is cursed when it comes to Beacon Hills,” Stiles’ words had made his aunts go pale, their guard they built the last few months broken in a single accusation. Stiles approached them and crossed his arms with theirs.

 

“Aunt Rena, Auntie Helena, I understand you love and want what’s best for me. You guys have done nothing but protect me all this time, respecting my values and my will. But you can’t stop now.”

 

They didn’t reply, agreeing silently with his wishes.

 

Stiles felt guilty though, for making them feel guilty, and so he caved with an ultimatum.

 

“A semester, I’ll go to school for a semester and feel it out. When summer comes around we can see how I feel,” Stiles negotiated with his aunts, but made sure to leave no room for arguments, this is what he wanted and he knew they’d understand.

 

“Fine,” Helena and Serena agreed in unison. “Cool,” Stiles responded nonchalantly. He passed them and started walking forward again. The clicks of their expensive heels made sound behind the Warlock.

 

“Imagine what people would say if they heard that a Ventimiglia Warlock didn’t want to attend Salvatore School with open arms,” Serena said in an overdramatized huff of shock. 

 

“What’s so great about this school anyway?” Stiles asked confused. “This School was opened by group of Vampires and Wicca who are quite famous in the supernatural world,” Helena answered. “They spent years thwarting evil left and right, though the end of their stories are tragic,” Serena added somberly.

 

“How’d it end?” Stiles asked, frightened just a little. Serena brightened up at his tone and spun to him, grinning to ear from ear. 

 

“It ended with this, a safe haven for young people discovering what it means to be Supernatural. And all those people who grew up in this town and created this school, they started out just like you. Seemingly normal teenagers who were lost,” Serena’s eyes lit up passionately as she taught her nephew the meaning of sacrifice. The Witch wanted Stiles to see just because he would go to school here wouldn’t mean he was alone.

 

“Okay, come on,” Stiles changed directions towards where he saw the Admission Office. Let’s sign me up before you two start crying,” Stiles snarked playfully. 

 

•••

 

“It should never be this hard to find one freaking room,” Stiles hissed to himself. It was his first day at the Salvatore School. It was safe to say he hated it.

 

The uniforms were corny, his phone had been taken, and he was supposed to have a roommate by the end of the day.

 

“Intro to Alchemy?” A sweet voice whispered to Stiles from behind. He spun around on edge and back away from two very imposing and beautiful teenage girls.

 

“Uh, hi?” Stiles greeted trying to mask his confusion. “Sorry, she’s always been bad at introductions,” the dark haired girl apologized for the blonde. 

 

“That’s fine, I’m not the Queen, so be as casually as you want,” Stiles reassured, hoping he doesn’t seem ungrateful.

 

“Welcome to the Salvatore School, we’re your tour guides,” the blonde says. “I’m Josie,” the brunette smiles sweetly. 

 

“I’m Lizzie,” Lizzie matches her partners smile in return, “Josie and I are sisters.”

 

“Twins.”

 

“Fraternal, obvs.”

 

Stiles only nodded, still taken aback by their sudden friendliness. “Nice to meet you,” Stiles says finally, “the names Stiles.”

 

“Curious name,” another girl spoke from behind the twins. She was also beautiful, stiles noticed, with auburn hair and pale green eyes. “I’m Hope Mikaelson,” she greeted politely. Hope extended her hand and Stiles shook it gratuitously.

 

“Is everyone here so nice?” Stiles joked nervously. “She’s just having a good day, but don’t worry. Her barks worse than her bite,” Lizzie snarked ignoring Hopes presence. 

 

Though Stiles could tell it was just an act of their relationship, Hope and Lizzie were probably closer than they’d admit.

 

“Mikaelson’s a pretty cool name. Don’t hear that as often,” Stiles observed Hopes backpack. Noticing the stitched name-tag displayed spelling that wasn’t very common.

 

“Old European lineage,” Hope waved off nonchalantly. Just then two other guys joined the group. One tall and athletic looking, the other more stoic and calm. Kind of like Scott.

 

The Emo boy kissed hope very quickly and athletic one starred longingly at the two, a display Stiles didn’t miss.

 

“Stiles, these two are Rafael Waithe and Landon Kirby. Brothers who recently enrolled to the school as well,” Lizzie introduced quickly. “Is it rude to ask, what you guys are?” Stiles asked, “I’m very new to all this.”

 

“So are we,” Rafael said understanding. “I’m a werewolf, the wonder twins are Witches, and this kid is a Phoenix. Kind of hard to explain what that is,” Rafael explained slowly moving towards Stiles.

 

“As for Hope, don’t ask. You’ll get a headache,” Rafael fake whispered, hoping to get a laugh from Stiles. Which he did. “Okay, noted,” Smiled fondly at the Rafael. “Well, I’m a Warlock, just Incase that interests anyone,” Stiles offered sheepishly.

 

“It’s still cooler than being a Phoenix, I still don’t even know what that is and I’ve been here for months,” Landon said with a “I give up” attitude. Stiles’ smile brightened, he knew they were trying to make him feel welcomed, and it really helped. 

 

Josie and Lizzie moved forward and crossed arms with Stiles, smiling at him like there was nothing to worry about. 

 

“We’re gonna get on with our tour,” Josie told the other three. “But since were all becoming the weirdest group of friends; we’ll meet you guys for lunch,” Lizzie added with a fake uninterested attitude. 

 

“Sure, nice to meet you,” Rafael politely waved to Stiles and headed down the corridor, Landon and Hope did the exact same and followed after the taller male. 

 

“He’s cute,” Stiles said absently. “But he’s werewolf,” Josie said with a slight warn to her voice. Stiles stared at her in wonder, almost asking if she knew his past. 

 

“Our last name’s Saltzman,” Lizzie clarified as if she read his mind. “Oh, so you’re dad told you all my dirty details,” Stiles asked trying to choke down the aggravation. “Just to keep you on a path of success, he didn’t tell us anything personal, just the basics.”

 

“We can tell you’ve been through a lot though, so we got your back, Lizzie reassures me sweetly, Stiles could tell she genuinely cared about his past, and what happens to him in the future. It was comforting for the Warlock.

 

“You guys are pretty dope,” Stiles said appreciatively. “Yeah, we are, aren’t we,” Josie laughed confidently and together the three of us started through the Salvatore Boarding School for the Young and Gifted. 

 

My new home.


End file.
